


Flowers for Fi

by Shadsie



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Multiple Game Eras, Other, Roboshipping, Spoilers, Three-Part Timeline, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadsie/pseuds/Shadsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a little robot fell in love with the spirit of a sacred sword.  After Fi fulfilled her mission, Scrapper chose to stay by her side, taking care of the Master Sword, only to continually watch the "Hero" take her to drag her about in dirt and danger.   This is a story of undying love throughout Hyrule's ages.  (Deals with Skyward Sword characters, but goes through several games in the Zelda series).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers for Fi

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer and Notes: The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo, not to me. 
> 
> Summary: Scrapper x Fi through the ages.

**FLOWERS FOR FI**

**A Legend of Zelda Fan Fiction by Shadsie**  

 

 

Young Link had a dilemma. It was the kind of dilemma that could only be had by a time traveler whose destinations were fixed to roughly two distinct periods. 

 

The boy had been poking around the SpiritTemple and had just found the treasure sealed within that he was supposed to give to the nice lady who wanted to help him overthrow Ganondorf.  Link did not know what the “reward” she promised him was to be for doing this.  He hoped it was chocolate or a treasure-chest full of rupees, but by the look Nabooru had given him, he guessed that she had in mind to hug him, kiss him and to let him touch her girl-parts.  His time spent as an adult had made him more worldly-wise than he had any business being at his true age, but he was still more interested in chocolate.  He’d seen the young woman taken prisoner by a pair of hideous hags.  That was the reason why he found himself, his guardian-fairy floating by his head, in the Temple of Time again. 

 

The witches had taken Nabooru to a portion of the SpiritTemple he could not access with his little body.  He’d tried, though.  Link had looked for any possible way in. He’d even tried to put the strength-enhancing silver gauntlets on his hands so he could move the stone that sealed the area off, but they would not fit or impart to him their magic.  Link had even considered the possibility of getting an adult to help him since leaving a seven-year gap gave the hags ample time to hurt his new friend, but there were no adults that he trusted and he feared sending some poor schmuck to a monster-fanged death.  Even in child-form he’d faced things that most people would not have survived. He could only trust himself with his mission.  The lad determined himself:  if he found Nabooru imprisoned, he’d free her and apologize for the delay and if he learned of her death, he would avenge her. 

 

As the motes of light from the Prelude to Light died around him, he saw the Master Sword at rest within its pedestal, waiting for him.  He stiffened when he saw something by it, however.  There was some manner of creature floating… _floating?_...beside the sword. Its hands were huge and it appeared to be polishing the blade with a cloth.  

 

“Look!” Navi shouted.  Link did look as the creature turned around.  He brought out the Kokiri Sword. 

 

“Step away from that sword, monster!” the child cried.  “That’s a holy weapon and it’s mine!” 

 

The monster crackled and hummed.  The sound was like lightning-magic, which, apparently, was what was keeping its hands attached to its body.  It had a weird thing coming out of the top of its head, like a pinwheel or like the turbines Link had seen in the ShadowTemple. 

 

“Zzrt!” the creature scratched, “Master Shortpants, is that you? You got shorter from the last time I saw you.”

 

Link kept his gaze and his sword steady, ready for any sudden moves. 

 

Navi calmed and started laughing.  “I don’t think he wants to hurt you, Link,” she sighed.  “And he’s not a monster.”

 

“Then what is he? I’ve never seen anything like him before.” 

 

“He is… alive,” Navi concluded after what seemed to be a struggle.  “He’s not really a ‘he,’ though, more like an ‘it,’ but I sense he prefers ‘he.’  He is alive but not alive.”

 

Link sheathed his sword and put his hands on his hips.  His eyes darted from the creature to Navi. “Navi, you aren’t making any sense.” 

 

“Maybe I can explain.” 

 

Link stepped back as a ghost appeared in the temple.  The transparent form of Rauru stood before the dumbfounded boy. 

 

“Rauru…”

 

“I am still in the Scared Realm, Link, but I can communicate with you through space and through time.  The being you see before you is Scrapper.  He is a longtime resident and friend of the Temple of Time.  He is an ancient robot.” 

 

“Ro-bot?” Link asked, scratching his hair.  “What is that?”

 

Rauru coughed, and looked like he was searching for the words to explain.  “I suppose that is hard to explain to people of your time, Link.  Robots were used by people long ago to help them in mundane or dangerous tasks.  They are kind of like wind-up toys.”

 

“Like bombchus?”

 

“In a manner of speaking, yes, there is a similarity.  Robots were far more complex than any toy you know, however.  Scrapper, in particular, has something of a personality.  In short, he’s kind of like… a man made of metal whose organs are made of gears, whose mind is lightning and whose blood is made of oil.  His ‘food’ is the energy of Time.  Scrapper is kept alive by special rare flowers that we cultivate that produce the oil he needs and by the energies of this place.  He is the last of his kind, so you should treat him with respect.  Do not worry about what he was doing to the Master Sword.  He is merely doing his job.  He takes care of the Master Sword.”

 

Rauru faded.

 

“So… Mr. Scrapper…” Link began.

 

“Bzzzt! What of it, Master Shortpants?” the robot crackled. 

 

“I really don’t like being called short, you know,” Link pouted.  He then smiled a big smile.  “So you keep the sword clean and stuff, huh?  Thank you a lot!” 

 

Scrapper went back to polishing the blade.  His cloth had clear yellow oil on it.  “Someone has to take care of her, zzrt!” he said.

 

“Her?” Link asked. 

 

“Vrrrm.  She says she doesn’t mind blood.  Bzzrt!  But I don’t like to see her dirty. Zzrt. She’s a fine lady.  She deserves better than the fate she has.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand you,” Link said. 

 

“Bzzt! You wouldn’t.  You did this to her.” 

 

“Did what to whom?” 

 

The robot “vrrmed” sadly.  “You wouldn’t remember, Master Shortpants.  That was another world ago. Zrrt.”

 

“My guess is that he and the Master Sword have a special connection,” Navi chimed.  “I think he communicates with its spirit.” 

 

“Well, I do, too!” Link pouted.  “I can feel the soul of the sword connecting with mine whenever I pick up the blade and grow up! That’s how I know it belongs to me – it doesn’t want to be wielded by anyone else! The Master Sword trusts me.”

 

“Some trust, bzzt.” Scrapper pouted.   “She’s asleep because of you.  She is always going to be asleep because of you.  Rrrzt!  I never liked you.”

 

“But… we just met!” Link protested. 

 

“Zrrt.  I am done cleaning her up,” the robot said.  “Go ahead and take her so you can drag her all around in the dirt and danger. Bzzt.” 

 

Link reached for the hilt.  Even though the time-gap was but an instant for him due to the creation of the time-nexus, he could have sworn he heard metallic laughing behind him.

 

“Coma-time. Vrrrm.” 

 

* * *

 

 

**First Branch**

**Timeline of Defeat**

 

Link had come to the clearing in the Lost Woods that held the Master Sword to meditate.  He wished to see the blade again. Even though he did not wield it anymore, it gave him comfort to view it before he set out upon any mission.  He was about to depart Hyrule for many lands to train himself.  The Master Sword was to sleep, for it was a legendary artifact only to be used when the land was in direst need. 

 

There it was, gleaming in the morning sun – very different than the first time he saw the sword, covered in vines and in rust so thick it was flaking.  Just how in the world a blade could be that rusted, yet not consumed baffled the young man. 

 

Link found something strange at the base of the sword’s pedestal.  It was a flower – a large, purplish-pink flower with a big, bulbous base.  He had not seen a plant like that before. 

 

“Don’t die this time…bzzt.”

 

Link whirled around.  He reached for the common knight’s-sword on his back but did not draw it.  “Who’s there?” he asked.  He wondered if the thief that used to prowl these woods was back.  Link thought the man was still serving a sentence in the castle dungeon.  The young man startled as a peculiar creature emerged from the undergrowth.   Its body was dingy-white and its face looked like a mask.  It had the strangest crown upon its head that Link had ever seen. 

 

“A goblin-king?” the boy asked.  He eased slightly when it looked like the creature was making no move to harm him.  Link could sense, somehow, that it was benign.  A monster would have leapt for him by now. 

 

The strange little beast ignored him and hovered before the Master Sword.  “Zrrt. I hope you like the flower, Mistress Fi.  Bzzt. They are becoming harder to grow. Zzzrt. This is all I can spare for you this week while I use the rest to keep myself running.  Vrrm. Yes, Master Shortpants has come to the clearing again.  I don’t think he wants to take you this time. Vrrt.” 

 

Link stared slack-jawed.  The little creature turned around and floated toward him. “Rrrt.  She wishes her ‘Mattas’ a safe journey. You’d better come back safe and see her again. Vrrm.” 

 

Link fell down on his butt into the soft forest loam.  “What the?  I’m thoroughly confused.”

 

“Bzzt. The spirit of the Master Sword is worried for her master. Frankly, I don’t know why she is so attached to you when I am the one who cares for her the best.  Zzzrt.”

 

“Why is she worried about me?” Link asked. “After I defeated Ganon, I put the Master Sword back here to sleep forever.”

 

“FOREVER!  Zrrrrrrrrrrt!”  The creature howled, sparks of lightning igniting all around him.  “You already put her to sleep forever, bzzrt! Lifetimes ago!”

 

Link stepped back.  The creature’s tantrum was tempting him to reach for his knight’s-sword again. 

 

“I know the soul of the sword awakened in my hand a year ago, when I wielded her.  Why am I calling it ‘her?’  The sword felt alive…”

 

“Brrzt. She lives – semi-conscious.  She does not live like she once did. Rrrm.”

 

Link stood up when he saw the creature hunch over.  “I’m sorry, guy.  What are you, anyway?”

 

“Vrrm.  My designation is   LD-301S ‘Scrapper.’ I was created to serve Her Grace, Goddess-Hylia.” 

 

“The mother of my people?” Link asked, “How old are you?”

 

“Zzrt. Nearly as old as the sky, Master Shortpants.”

 

“Master Shortpants? I’m not that short.”

 

“Vrrm. The heart of your operation is nearly as old as the sky, too, but you wouldn’t know.  You sleep and you forget.  Fi sleeps but does not forget. Rrrt.”

 

“Fi?”

 

“Vrrt.  The soul of the Master Sword has a name.  My dear Mistress Fi.” 

 

Link stepped up to the sword-pedestal, careful not to step upon the flower placed before it.  He bowed his head before the blade.  “I am sorry that I never knew your name.  Thank you for protecting me and fighting with me, Fi.” 

 

For just a moment – it might have been a beam of light through a shifting cloud or a swaying tree-branch above – the blade of the sword appeared to glow.  Scrapper spun around and Link smiled warmly. 

 

“Zrrt.  She likes to be thanked,” the creature said.  “Rrt. She is willing to go with you if you wish to take her.” 

 

“Not this time,” Link said.  “I need to test myself, to make myself strong in case Ganon returns.  It would be unfair to use her strength unless he does actually show up.”

 

“Vrrm. Just don’t die, Master Shortpants.” 

 

“You keep saying that! What makes you think I’m going to die? I’m the Hero of Hyrule – I’m tough enough to handle anything.” 

 

“That is what you thought the last time, Master Shortpants. Vrrt!”

 

“The last time?”

 

“Vrrzt! Time before this time – When you were a less-short Master Shortpants and your hair was lighter.   Before the Great Sealing War.  Zzrt.  You ceased functioning and leaked your red oil onto the earth. Rrrt!”

 

“Before the Great Sealing war…. That was at least a hundred years ago… Are you sure you aren’t yanking my chain? Crazy creature…”

 

“Zzrrt.  Fi was sad. She was so sad that she cried a lot and became covered in rust. She wept for years for you and for the land.  She was so happy when you came to her again, Rrrt!  I could not polish off the rust. Bzzt. I tried.  You came and the rust went away. Zzrt. What does she see in you?” 

 

“I don’t know, Scrapper. I just don’t know.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Link knew that the situation was most dire when the Master Sword found him in this foreign land.  He’d been in the outer kingdoms, running between Labrynna and Holodrum rescuing holy Oracles and manipulating nature.  His enemies were strong, but something told him that Ganon was on the rise when he held the scabbard of the Master Sword in his hands.

 

He unsheathed it and watched the blade glimmer.  The young man smiled the smile of one reunited with a beloved old friend.  To feel the sword’s energy course through his arm was pure exhilaration.  Link wondered how it had come to be here and how that strange, insane “Scrapper” creature he’d met at the sword’s pedestal in the Lost Woods of Hyrule was doing. 

 

That was when he noticed that the blade of the Master Sword smelled of oil and flowers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Master using it and you can have it.” 

 

“You said that the last time, old man.  I’m here because I have mastered my sword. I’ve come to claim the better blade.”

 

The old man did not even look up at the boy.  Link watched him as he tinkered with something – a piece of “lost technology” as he’d called it.  The old man’s home was cluttered with trinkets and talismans, most of them rusted - the wreckage of previous ages.   

 

The thing he was working on was rather interesting opened-up.  Link could see the thing’s innards in the torchlight.  The elderly mage had called this object a “robot” and had described it as being a bit like an Armos. He’d said that ancient manuscripts detailed it as having been a helpful sort of machine, useful to people for many tasks.  Its insides were certainly not like a monster’s insides.  Link marveled at all the little clockwork-parts and the strange patterns of lines etched onto panels of a material that the young adventurer did not recognize.  The old man pried at a set of rusted gears with a pick-tool.

 

“Dangblast it!” the man groused, “It’s all rusted stiff in here.  If I only had some oil, maybe I could get the ghost back into this machine…” 

 

“I could bring by some bacon grease,” Link offered. 

 

“That won’t work! I’ve already tried animal fat, the oil of pressed olives… anything I can think of.  On my best estimate, this thing was lubricated by a very special kind of oil that probably no one can find anymore.  Anyway, why are you here?  I told you ‘Master it and you can have this.’  Don’t tell me you have proof of improved sword-skills already.” 

 

The man took off his glass goggles and looked up at Link.  “So?”

 

“That I do!” Link said brightly.  He took a leather pouch off his belt and dumped its contents out onto a table in front of the old man. 

 

“What’s all this, then?” the elder asked as he picked up and examined the items. 

 

“A lock of mane from a blue Lynel,” Link said proudly, “A horn from a Darknut’s helmet, a Wizrobe’s necklace and the tip of a petal from a Peahat.  These tokens are from monsters I’ve slain.  May I have my sword now?” 

 

The man snapped his goggles back into place and carefully examined the items.  “No,” he said.

 

“What do you mean, no? These items are from extremely powerful foes! I nearly died! My ribs aren’t even fully knit yet! And they aren’t the only things I’ve triumphed over!  I was lucky to be able to take this proof for you!” 

 

The old man licked his dry lips and held up the shaggy bit of Lynel-mane.  “Why didn’t you take the Lynel’s shield and sword?  Even if you did not wish to appropriate them, they could have been sold for a high price.  Why did you take only the Darknut’s horn and not the full suit of armor? You could have used it to protect your frail body.  The Wizrobe’s necklace is a fine prize, but know you not that the Wizrobe’s power is in his robe?  As for the Peahat-pedal, it is true that they are plants possessed of monster-energy, but they merely float about on their own business.  You merely murdered a flower, oh mighty hero.”

 

“So, after all that, I don’t get the sword?” 

 

“I’m afraid not.  You are a brave lad, but I do not think you yet carry the wisdom you need to wield my wonderful blade.  I have done much research on it and it is a sword of legends.  One must have courage wisdom and power in perfect harmony within one’s spirit to hope to effectively wield the blade.  Courage comes off you in waves that I can feel and after giving me these trinkets, I do not doubt your power, but I think your wisdom is lacking.”

 

“May I at least rest here a bit?  I’m tired and I’m hurt.” 

 

“Sit yourself down over there, next to the robot.  That’s a good lad.  I have a bit of red potion here. You actually did a pretty good job of bandaging your leg there.”

 

Link drank the potion and looked at the robot. The rusted thing had a “face” after a fashion and that face struck him as very sad-looking.  He wondered at that.  An Armos expressed no emotion at all – unless a desire to murder the bit of flesh that touched it was an emotion. 

 

“I found that piece when I found the sword,” the old man explained.  “I was excavating my home here and found it curled up with the sword, holding it, but not like you or I would hold a sword.  The thing was curled up with it, holding the blade like a man might hold his lover.  Strange, that, don’t you think?” 

 

“How did you know it is a blade of legends?” Link asked.

 

“An old mage like me can feel when something has deep magic, lad.”  

 

“So, what do I have to do to wield the sword? My quest is becoming increasingly difficult.  I need a stronger weapon than what I’ve got.”

 

“You must show me your wisdom, boy.” 

 

An idea struck Link.  He reached into another of his belt-pouches, his “very special” pouch and withdrew something highly sacred.  The incomplete Triforce of Wisdom lit up the cavern with blinding light like the sun on ocean-water.  The old man gasped and gyrated.  Link worried that he was having a heart-attack. Link put the Triforce back into his pouch with tender love and grace.

 

“It is nearly whole!” the mage exclaimed.  He grabbed the special sword off its place on his wall and practically shoved it into Link’s hands.  “Take it! Take it!  You just showed me that this really is your sword!  Hero through Hyrule’s Time, forgive me for doubting you!” 

 

“Okay…” Link said confusedly.  “I really just wanted it to help me survive and find the princess.  Thank you. I’ll use it well.” 

 

“Draw the blade,” the old man intoned. 

 

Link drew the blade from its scabbard.  He saw the face of the robot reflected in it for an instant before he held the blade up and the reflection shifted to his own young and dirty face.  He heard a voice echo in his mind in a language he did not speak that was deeper than Time, and he understood it. 

 

_“Mattas…”_

 

* * *

 

 

**Second Branch**

**Timeline of the Child**

 

 

“Skull Kid! Brrzzt! You’re supposed to keep the riff-raff out of here! Zzrrrt! I’m so furious my circuits are frying! Vrrrt!”

 

The little lost-child-of-the-forest crouched upon the branch of a tree and cocked his mask-like face to one side.  “He is not riff-raff, Scrapper!” the Kid asserted.  “He is fun! He is strong and did not fall down and go still like the others.  He’s smart and he’s brave, he didn’t give up and he caught me!” 

 

“He? Brrzt.” The little robot who was floating in the clearing asked.  “The beast-rider looks female to me. Vrrm.”  

 

“Not the rider,” the Skull Kid said as he vanished to re-appear atop some ancient brickwork, “The wolf.  The wolf is the Hero that Knight-Link told us was coming!”

 

“Bzzt.  I am not designated to serve children,” Scrapper huffed.  “I have no patience for children’s games. Zzrt.”

 

“No game! No game!  Hero is the wolf, rider is his shadow-friend!” 

 

The wolf was growling and kept itself in a defensive crouch, ready to spring.  His rider looked equally ready to spring.  Her eyes darted from the Skull Kid to Scrapper.  Her sharp teeth were set in a vicious leer.  The wolf startled and barked when the Skull Kid appeared beside him. 

 

“Go on, doggy!” the wild woodland child said.  “Scrapper wont’ hurt you.  Scrapper is a metal-man!   He is an ancient guard of the shiny-sword.  I am, too, but I know how to have fun.”   
  


“Fun…” Midna remarked, “Nearly killing us is fun for you?”

 

The Skull Kid vanished in a puff of leaves and unnerving laughter. 

 

“Go on, Link,” she commanded.  “We got this far.  If the metal-man tries to hurt us, I’ll take care of him.  I’m in the mood to crush tin cans.” 

 

Scrapper floated up between them and the Master Sword’s pedestal.  “Rrrt. What would a mongrel want with Mistress Fi?”

 

“Mistress Fi?”  Midna asked. 

 

“Vrrrm! What a fine lady!  Why does Master Shortpants always attract the fine ladies? Brrzt.  Maybe I should start calling him Master Fuzzbutt now.” 

 

Scrapper tapped Link on the tip of his wet canine nose. Link growled.  Midna nearly rolled off his back in a fit of laughter. 

 

“Fuzzbutt.  I like that.”  She gave Scrapper a long look and floated up in a flurry of shadow-magic to examine him.  “Hmm,” she said, “A metal-man, huh?  You aren’t much different than some of the machines my people use in the Twilight Realm. Just a bucket of bolts! Just what kind of service-machine are you, anyway?” 

 

“Bzzt. My designation is LD-301S Scrapper.  I take care of Fi, brrzt. Or as you know her, the Master Sword. Rrrm.  Fi is sacred and shouldn’t be touched by dirty fleabags. Zrrrt.”  

 

“He may be a filthy tick-buffet, but he needs the sword,” Midna said.  “He’s supposed to save us all.  He also needs it to break the curse he’s under.  He’s not supposed to be a beast.”

 

Midna floated back as Link approached the Master Sword.  Swirls of darkness exploded from his fur, which whipped as if blown by a mighty wind.  He pressed forward and opened his jaws. 

 

“Brrrzzzzt!” Scrapper exclaimed. 

 

A small objected bounced upon the courtyard stones and Midna grabbed it.  Where there was once a wolf now stood a man holding the Master Sword skyward.  He sliced it in the air a few times to get the sensation of it and felt victorious.  Scrapper hovered back toward the shadows and let the young man and the strange little woman talk.  He watched as they left his part of the forest, taking his Mistress Fi on another drag through dirt and danger. 

 

He still disliked Fi’s master, but he felt fondness in his processors for the snarky little imp. It was apparent that she would keep Master Fuzzbutt in his proper place.    

 

* * *

 

 

The robot watched as the young man drove the Master Sword back into the pedestal.  Twilight was falling. The boy looked dejected.  His stance indicated that he carried some burden of sorrow.   

 

Scrapper hovered over to him.  “Zrrt.  You have returned, Master Fuzzbutt.”

 

Link gave him a soft smile at the nickname, which quickly turned back into a frown.  “I brought the sword back,” he said dully.  

 

“She is clean, brrzt!” Scrapper said.  “You cleaned her up. Rrrt.”

 

“Of course,” Link said.  “I felt like she wanted to be clean before coming home.”

 

“Brrzt. Where is your friend, Master Fuzzbutt?”

 

“My friend?”

 

“The little girl-creature, Rrrt.” 

 

At this, Link sighed deeply.  “She had to go away,” Link said. 

 

“Zzrrt. She did not cease functioning, did she? Vrrm.”

 

“No,” Link explained.  “But I can never see her again in this life.  She sealed herself away to another world.  She went back to her world and our worlds cannot mix.”  Link’s shoulders sagged.  “I… developed a great affection for her but I cannot be with her, so it’s like death, but I know she’s still alive… but I won’t get to be with her anymore.  It’s a strange feeling.”

 

Scrapper looked to the Master Sword.  Its blade gleamed orange with the setting of the sun.  “Zrrm.  I understand more than you know, Master Link.” 

 

“You called me by my name.” Link noticed, “No ‘Shortpants’ or ‘Fuzzbutt.” 

 

“Bzzt.  Thank you for bringing Mistress Fi home.  She and Scrapper will be here if you need anything and will be happy to comply.  Vrrm.” 

 

Link left the clearing and wandered off into the forest, back down the trail he came. 

 

Somehow, Scrapper didn’t feel like making fun of him anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

**Third Branch**

**Timeline of the Adult**

 

 

Fi was sick.  Fi had been sick for some time and Scrapper did not know what to do.  He prayed his electronic little heart out every day because he knew that part of Fi’s strength came from the prayers of special people.  It was their goodwill that gave her the strength to fight. 

 

The rusting robot did not know how long he’d been in this chamber.  He knew that there was water in the world above, that they were covered in water like the ancient LanayruSea that was a part of his databanks still kept on file after many centuries.  If the bubble around the area ever popped, the water would come crashing in with fathoms of pressure.  There was a secret garden on the back-lot of the castle where Scrapper cultivated the flowers that kept him functioning.  The remains of the Temple of Time were nearby, which aided his taking of energy from Time.  Men had moved the Master Sword’s chamber to the basement of HyruleCastle long ago and had positioned a statue of the Hero of Time atop it.  Scrapper thought the chamber was fine just where it had been before, but no one listened to a temple-servant machine.  All of those people were gone now. They’d either ceased functioning or they’d gone to live above the sea.      

 

Scrapper bustled about on his daily routine and plucked a flower to set by Fi, as was his custom every time her last flower wilted.  Even the wilted flowers were good for oil to fuel him, but only the freshest of flowers were worthy of her gaze. 

 

“Zzrt.  Maybe we will be here together forever, vrrm,” he said as he polished the Master Sword’s blade.  “Master Shortpants went away long ago and never came back, rrrt.  We might be the last of the old kingdom. Bzzt. Maybe everyone ceased function. You’re sick now because you haven’t been getting prayers. Zrrm. Maybe everyone that prayed is gone.” 

 

The robot hovered sadly around the chamber, looking at the stained-glass portraits of the Sages, all in the gray standstill of stasis.  He did not know why he was not in stasis.  He suspected that Fi had used what little strength she could spare to form the stasis-field for some reason. 

 

“Zzrt.  Maybe you can come out now. Rrrm. If all is dead beyond the water, you don’t have to protect anyone from evil anymore. Zrrt.  My data remembers your data. Vrrm.” 

 

The robot slipped into obscurity when he sensed an intruder.  It was Master Shortpants again, only he was _really_ short this time.  He yanked the Master Sword out of the pedestal – so roughly! And off he went, ignorant of history and as regardless of Fi’s feelings as always. 

 

“Zzrt. It has never been my designation to serve children,” Scrapper huffed, “Frrm. So why is it hers? Vrrtzz.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was sometime later when he felt Fi fading even further into oblivion than she was before in her semi-conscious state within the sword.  The robot kept himself unseen, but watched the final battle of his beloved.  The brat had struck her right though the old wizard’s head! There, to Scrapper’s horror, the Master Sword became stone.  He was certain that he had watched Fi sacrifice herself to seal away the source of their world’s problems from ancient days once and for all. 

 

The bubble popped and the sea came crashing in.  Somehow, Master Shortpants and the little Goddess escaped it.  The old king was not so lucky.  Neither was Scrapper, but he did not want to be lucky.  He’d ceased functioning before. He didn’t have any reason to believe that this time would be any different – just more permanent. The little robot could never remember what his last processes had been.  He could feel parts of him sparking and blowing apart as water rushed into the gaps in his seams.  He could see the lightning shutting down as he reached out one of his hands toward the huge stone man with the stone sword in his forehead. 

 

His optics must have been malfunctioning.  He saw a figure before him, colored blue and purple.  She almost matched the waters around her.  She reached out to him, a sight for centuries-sore lenses. 

 

“Mistress Fi!” Scrapper said without buzzing or humming. 

 

“Model LD-301S Scrapper.  Faithful through many long years. The first LD unit to ‘fall in love’ as the humans say and also the last. There is a 100% chance that it is time for us to rest together.” 

 

The non-functioning LD-301S drifted down to the ocean floor.  If fishes could speak, they might have told someone that it had a look of peace in its one expression-capable eye. 

 

 

**END.**

 


End file.
